


The Foundling Prince

by AustralianRanger012



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9349139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustralianRanger012/pseuds/AustralianRanger012
Summary: AU, follows movie canon events. Many years before the One Ring made its presence known in Middle Earth, a golden-blond haired, bright-blue eyed elfling was found abandoned in the Forests of Mirkwood by an Elvenking grieving the recent deaths of his wife and son. This is the story of that elfling, Legolas Thranduilion, adopted son of King Thranduil, told through one and two-shots.Discontinued on this site, but all twenty-five chapters are posted in full on Fanfiction.net for those who want more. My username is exactly the same.





	1. Heartbreak-part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.
> 
> So, I did what I told myself I would never do and wrote a Lord of the Ring's fanfiction. I don't know how good my efforts are, but though I'd post the first couple of chapters to gage a response. I have no less than thirteen written in various states of completion, but we'll see how things go. 
> 
> This is mainly based on the movie-verse, though the timeline differs. However, it is an AU, and has more non-canon elements than Legolas being the adopted son of Thranduil.
> 
> The premise of an adopted Legolas comes from the story 'Small Blessings' written by nazgularepeopletoo on AO3, and the original idea is credited to tumblr. However, that is the only thing that I have borrowed from that story. My story is not meant to reflect theirs in anyway, and is quite different.
> 
> This is completely un-betaed so any mistakes I take full responsibility for. This is purely self-indulgent fluffy-angst, and proves once and for all that I can't write pure fluff to save my life.

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: Heartbreak-part 1**

Thranduil's heart was breaking, and nothing could console him. In that moment, he did not truly care if he lived or died. After all, those he cared about more than anything else in the world were dead.

His beloved wife and their unborn son were dead.

Slaughtered by orcs.

In front of him on what was supposed to be a pleasant ride in the forest.

He had not been able to save them.

He had failed as a husband and a father, the latter before he'd even officially become one.

Thranduil felt numb.

His wife was dead.

Their son was dead.

Gone. Forever.

A single tear ran down the normally stern and stubborn Elvenking's cheek, but the heartbroken elf made no move to wipe it away. He did not have the strength to even raise a hand right now. Indeed, it seemed that the normally proud and confident king had already started fading, sitting in a dark room by himself and refusing all company.

"My Lord?"

Thranduil winced as someone knocked gently on the closed doors of his study, jolting him out of his downward spire for a brief moment. He did not want to face anyone right now, not when he'd just lost the love of his life less than three hours ago. When the healers had pronounced Tathardis and her unborn son as having passed beyond their help, Thranduil had screamed in grief and fled from the room. He could not fully accept that they were gone, and still felt like he was in a bad dream, floating along on a cloud of pain and anguish. All he wanted was to be left alone to fade away in peace.

But Lagoron, his faithful friend and seneschal who'd known him since they were both small elflings, was nothing if not stubborn.

Another knock sounded, more determined than the last.

"My King? Thranduil? I know you are in there. Don't you dare ignore me, _mellon-nin_." (my friend)

Lagoron's voice faded into the distance as Thranduil lost focus on the world again. He was distantly aware of soft voices but couldn't focus on what they were saying, and jumped and shied away when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, wincing in the harsh light from the lamp that had been lit, the Woodland King's pained silver-blue eyes met a very concerned pair of sky blue ones.

"Thranduil, please don't do this. You are needed too much by too many people; we cannot lose you to grief right now."

Lagoron was the only elf, apart from his late wife, who would dare to approach the Elvenking when he was in such a state and tell him what he was doing was wrong. Thranduil had long since stopped arguing with his seneschal regarding his own well-being, as he always seemed to invariably lose to the determined Sindar.

This time it was different.

"I've just lost my wife and son and you are telling me I'm not allowed to grieve for them?"

It was a testament to how far Thranduil had fallen in a few short hours in that his words came out as a faint whisper that someone without an elf's enhanced hearing might not have been able to hear.

Lagoron did not miss a beat.

"You need to grieve, I'm not telling you not to, but this is not the right way to go about it. If you continue down this path, you will fade completely within the next few days, and then what will we do? The people have just lost their queen and unborn prince, to lose their king as well would shatter them. They need you as their king and leader Thranduil. Especially right now."

The king's shoulders were slumped and his eyes had hardly any light in them when he answered.

"I don't think that I have the strength or skill to lead them anymore Lagoron. I failed to protect my queen and son. How am I supposed to protect a whole realm of people if I cannot look after the two most important people in my life?"

"Tathardis and your son's deaths were not your fault. You fought with everything you had, we all did, but we were outnumbered. The orcs planned this ambush down to the littlest detail, there was nothing any of us could have done to stop it. It is not your fault Thranduil, Tathardis's death is not your fault. It is none of our faults; she was taken by the growing darkness that is starting to spread across the land. Do not blame yourself for today's deaths and use that as an excuse to fade, Thranduil."

"I am already fading Lagoron. I can feel it. My spirit is all but spent."

Lagoron looked very alarmed.

"You _can't_ do this Thranduil! You can't fade now!"

But the king was, that much was very obvious to Lagoron. He was still holding onto life, but only by a thin thread that could break at any moment. For the first time in many centuries, Lagoron did not know what to do, and panicked as he shook his friends arm, which was not as solid as it should be.

"Thranduil, come back! You are needed! Your people, your _wife's_ people, they _need_ you Thranduil. Tell me, what would Tathardis have wanted you to do? To stay strong and lead her people, or to fade from grief within a couple of hours of her passing? Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief. Please Thranduil, come back to us."

The Elvenking had stopped listening to his friend's words some time back, when one sentence suddenly hit him.

" _Do not dishonour her memory by fading from grief."_

He would never dishonour the memory of the love of his life. Who did Lagoron think he was, to speak like that to his king? Thranduil felt a small flash of anger at the suggestion that he would dishonour his beloved queen. He would never…

Thranduil suddenly gasped and doubled over in physical pain as the realisation that was exactly what he was currently doing washed over him. By allowing himself to fade from grief, he would leave his people, his beloved wife's people, without a king or queen. Memories of the vow he'd made the night he married Tathardis flashed through the king's head. He'd promised to love and lead her people as if they were his own. Many of the older Sindar elves at the time had looked down on and belittled the fact that their crown prince had married a weak Silvan elf and made her his queen, but Thranduil had seen a strength of character and determination in her and her race that put many of his own people to shame.

That put him to shame. Yes, he had just lost his wife, but the people had lost their beloved queen, and her parents had just lost their beloved daughter. Her older brother had just lost his little sister. It was with that thought that Thranduil was able to pull himself out of his grief enough to realise a startling thing.

He was not alone in his grief, and would not be alone in his grief. The whole kingdom would grieve, and fall apart if someone did not step in and take charge. Someone had to keep the peace, and as king that was his job. It was what Tathardis would have wanted, she would not have wanted him to fade from grief.

Thranduil stood up suddenly with a gasp and almost fell flat on his face, he felt strong hands grab him and gently lower him to the ground as he lent forward and started sobbing into soft fabric. He couldn't help it. All the emotions he'd been suppressing suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind and he felt like he was drowning. He knew what he must do, but Thranduil was terrified that he wouldn't be able to do it. No matter how much he fought it, he was afraid he would still eventually fade from grief, it would just be a slower process.

Thranduil took a deep shuddering breath and opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He could not remember. The strong hands were still resting on his shoulders, and looking up Thranduil saw Lagoron's concerned expression. The seneschal was kneeling on the floor of the study; he had apparently been holding Thranduil all through the latter's little breakdown. Seeing that he now had the king's attention, Thranduil's close friend spoke.

"I think you need some air _mellon-nin_. Come, let us go for a walk, out in the forest. We won't go far, just far enough to give us some space. Come."

Thranduil allowed his lifelong friend to help him to his feet and lead him to the door. Lagoron's words had been enough to keep him from fading this time, but Thranduil couldn't shake the fear that it was not permanent.

He feared fading more than he feared death itself. And, in spite of Lagoron's words, Thranduil knew that keeping his vow to his wife would not be enough to prevent his eventual demise.

He would fade, the only question was how long it would take.


	2. Heartbreak-part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story and make no money from them. This story is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's.
> 
> Still not beta-ed, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy this angst-feast!

* * *

 

**Chapter 2: Heartbreak-part 2**

Thranduil and Lagoron walked silently beneath the leafy green trees of the woodland realm, their feet leaving no mark on the ground as they passed by. Squirrels chattered quietly with each other and bounded around in the branches above their heads, while birds sung their sweet songs and water rippled in the many little streams and brooks that lay scattered throughout the forest. This area had yet to be touched by the darkness that was rapidly spreading over the whole land, and was a bittersweet reminder of what Greenwood the Great had once been like. Now, many were starting to refer to the southernmost part as Mirkwood, due to the gloomy atmosphere and the dangerous creatures that had moved into the area of the forest surrounding the dark fortress of Dol Goldur.

They had been nowhere near the dark part of the woods when the orcs had attacked their party and killed the queen. They had been a long distance away from it still, and Lagoron worried at the fact that orcs had been in that particular part of the woods. If they could get this far into the elven kingdom without being sensed, that did not bode well for the woodland elves. They were still recovering from the disastrous battle at Dagorlad, and as a result their warriors were much younger and less experienced than those in the other elven realms. They also did not possess a Ring of Power, something that Lagoron did silently question the wisdom of. Thranduil may be stubborn, but he was nothing when compared with his sire. Oropher had publically stated that the day he couldn't defend his realm by his own power and that of his people was the day he would die.

Personally, Lagoron would be happier right now if the previous King of the Woodland Realm had taken a ring when the other elven leaders had. Especially with Thranduil currently grieving the way he was. They were already vulnerable, and could not afford to have a king slowly fading from grief at a time when they needed to build themselves up and stay strong for whatever was coming.

Lagoron was so deep in these thoughts that he hadn't realised his king had stopped walking until he bumped into the strong back. The Elvenking was standing stock still, his head held high and tipped slightly to one side as he listened intently to something. Then, without warning, he took off running in an apparently random direction. Lagoron's calls and questions were ignored as the king plunged into the undergrowth and disappeared from sight. Cursing both his own inattentiveness and the unpredictability that seemed to run in Oropher's bloodline, the seneschal wearily followed his friend and king.

* * *

Thranduil did not bother to reply to his friend's questions as he left the seneschal behind. He'd catch up eventually. It was no secret that Thranduil was almost as good at running through the forest as the Silvan elves, but most of the Sindar elves could not claim the same, though many of the younger generation was getting very good at it.

Barely breathing hard, Thranduil paused in a clearing and tilted his head to the side as he listened intently. He ignored the crashing and occasional curse coming from somewhere behind him as Lagoron fought his way through the heavy undergrowth. A thin cry eventually reached the kings sensitive ears, louder than it had been last time. Encouraged that he was heading in the right direction, the elf took off running again. He did not know who was making the sound, but he instinctively knew whoever was needed help.

Bursting into another clearing, one that he'd never been in before, Thranduil paused again and listened. At first he heard nothing, then quiet whimpering's reached his ears, coming from the other side of the clearing. Approaching the area the sound had come from cautiously, Thranduil laid a hand on his sword just in case, even though the evil steadily encroaching on their land had not yet shown itself to be in this part of the forest. After what had happened just that morning, Thranduil was taking no chances. His keen elven eyes scanned the area, trying to pinpoint exactly were the noise he had heard had come from.

Another cry, followed by a soft hiccup, had him dropping his hand from his sword hilt and rushing forward. Reaching a large tree, the Elvenking dropped to his knees and tentatively touched the small bundle of blankets resting in the tangled roots at its base. When the dark blanket wriggled and sobbed Thranduil picked it up and carefully unwrapped it, revealing the top of a golden head and the tips of delicately pointed ears. An elfling, not quite a newborn but no more than a day or two old, stopped sobbing and stared up at the king with deep blue eyes. The eyes of a Sindar elf, Thranduil thought with a start, for a moment being eerily reminded of his own father's eyes which had been the exact same colour, even as he became lost in the confusion, misery and sheer depth of _emotion_ the little elfling was portraying. They stared at each other for what seemed like an age before the baby opened his mouth (Thranduil knew instinctively that the baby was a boy) and started whimpering softly again.

Like that, the spell was broken and Thranduil realised that, in spite of it being a relatively warm day in early summer, the tiny elfling was shivering violently and did not have a very bright glow like a newborn elf should. Suddenly fearing for the strange child's life, Thranduil carefully wrapped the elfling back up in the thin blanket before lifting the elfling to his chest and wrapping his own robes around him to try and provide more warmth. Standing up and starting back across the clearing, Thranduil started unconsciously rocking the baby gently, and the sobbing stopped. Hugging the precious bundle tighter to his chest, Thranduil stepped through a gap in the trees to come face-to-face with a slightly out of breath Lagoron, whose hair and robes were covered in twigs and leaves.

"Your majesty, you can't just run off like that with no warning! Anything could have happened to you!"

His cheerful voice disturbed the child in Thranduil's arms, and the boy started whimpering again. Thranduil quickly hushed him. Lagoron's eyes widened as he took in the bundle the king was hugging close to his chest. It only took a few moments for his eyes to travel up and meet Thranduil's.

"Is that a…?"

The king nodded firmly.

"Yes. And he is freezing. We must get him back to the healers at once."

Lagoron set his jaw.

"Then what are we waiting for? Come on!"

They arrived back at the palace in record time. As soon as they were inside the halls, Thranduil ordered Lagoron to fetch a healer and bring them to his rooms. Striding determinedly through the halls that he'd been stumbling along in a haze of grief a few hours before, Thranduil only had one thing on his mind. Saving the child's life.

He may have failed to save Tathardis and their son, but he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that this little elfling did not meet the same fate.

Arriving at the royal chambers, Thranduil entered his room and gently laid the now sleeping elfling in a hand-carved wooden cot that was already set up there, in anticipation of the prince that would now never arrive. Hoping that the healers wouldn't take too long to arrive, Thranduil sat next to the cot and gently brushed a stray strand of golden-blond hair out of the elflings face. For a baby so young he had a lot of hair. As his hand touched the boy's cheek, his eyes opened and he gave Thranduil a look that the elder elf could not quite decipher, before giggling softly and reaching up to grasp at the Sindar's long white-blond hair. He was shivering less violently now, which the king took to be a good sign, but really, what did he know about babies?

Thranduil was so caught up in saving this little elfling's life that he didn't realise until later that he'd laid a stranger's baby in a bed lovingly designed and carved for his son, a crown prince, without a second thought. It had just felt right at the time.

* * *

"He will live. I don't know how long he was out there, but it wasn't long enough to cause any serious problems. Some time in the warmth, that bottle of warm milk and another one in a few hours' time, plenty of love and care, and he will be fine."

Tuchon, head healer of the woodland realm, smiled at the haggard-looking king as he pronounced the verdict, even as the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed his own weariness and sorrow. After all, mere hours ago he had been unable to save the Elvenking's wife and unborn son from dying, and he had feared the loss would cause the king to fade from grief. Seeing him gazing at this elfling he'd found abandoned in the forest with nothing but adoration and love in his eyes lifted Tuchon's spirit like not much could. Everyone was grieving for the loss of their queen and crown prince; and, rather unfairly in Tunith's opinion and Tuchon agreed with his twin sister on this one, they were looking to the king to lead them, forgetting that the king had lost just as much if not more than they had this day.

Lagoron watched silently from a corner. He did not know where this golden-blond haired bright-blue eyed elfling had come from, and felt a flash of anger towards those who had abandoned him. Yet, at the same time, he whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar and whoever else had seen fit to put this child in Thranduil's path, today of all days. Thranduil now had something to live for, and it was clear that Thranduil was not about to let any harm come to this elfling.

"What are you planning on calling him my Lord? If he is going to stay here than he needs a name."

Tuchon glanced briefly over at Lagoron as the latter said those words before he turned back to the king, wondering if his majesty would voice what they were both doubtlessly thinking and make it official. Thranduil managed to tear his eyes away from the elfling's face for long enough to observe the two people currently in the room with him. Then he smiled, and even Lagoron, who had known the king for several thousand years by now, had never seen him look so happy before.

"Legolas. His name is Legolas Thranduilion. He is my little Greenleaf, Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm."

* * *

_Tuchon – Strength (m). Head healer of Mirkwood. Twin brother to Tunith._

_Tunith – Strength (f). Female healer and midwife. Twin sister to Tuchon, and is his second-in-command._

**_All names and their translations came from elfnamegeneratorfun._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part 2. So, what do you think? Is it worth posting the other related shorts of Thranduil and Legolas's father/son relationship as time goes on? As I said before, there are another eleven chapters currently in various states of completion. If you want to read them please let me know, as I will not post them unless I know people are going to read them.

**Author's Note:**

> Lagoron – swift/rapid: A Sindar warrior who Thranduil has known his whole life. They are like brothers.
> 
> Tathardis – Willow: Was the queen of the woodland realm, a full-blooded Silvan elf and wife to Thranduil.
> 
> All names and their translations came from elfnamegeneratorfun. 
> 
> So, there it is. Thoughts on chapter 1? Heartbreak-part 2 will be up soon!


End file.
